Scenes
by nekobotan
Summary: Shounen ai, YoujixOmi, AyaxKen, sap point of views about a night... a sappy gettogether fic.
1. Kiss the Night

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: **Kiss the Night**  
(Youji)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: light rating of PG-14, light/implied shounen ai (YoujixOmi), small amount of humor, marginal cursing, sap!, probably OOC considering this is my 2nd WK fic, and my first wasn't... shall we say, a success ^^. I apologize for any errors...

**Notes**: this should be the first installment of a-- series? maybe just outtakes, related but readable alone.  
There'll be eventual KenxAya, more OmixYouji, etc., until the scene plays out, and everyone's happy. ^^  
(Youji's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...)

**Revised**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
The damn thing wouldn't light. 

_It's not even a week old. _

Not that I needed a light. Just having a cigarette between my lips was sufficient.... 

_I need a cigarette. _

I shook the cigarette lighter furiously, not yet desperate... 

Damn thing *still* wouldn't light. 

I sighed loudly and muttered some curse not even I could understand; just a few acrid sounding words in a rightfully disgusted tone. 

_Aya's fault. No wait, it's Ken's. Maybe even Omi's-- _

I didn't want to think about that. Too damn annoying. But... 

"I was not attacking Omi. It was just a kiss." 

And that's all it *had* been. A little bit of spit-swapping, but that was it. _The kid needed it! _

Aya hadn't thought so. Aya had been quite opposed to my actions, in fact. Especially when Ken tripped over him. It hadn't helped that Aya was holding a scalding mug of tea, and one of his favorite books... 

_Ken's fault, _ I decided absently. And ultimately, it was. Ken was the rubber-necker that crashed into Aya, who, scalded, had thundered into the kitchen where Omi was perched on the countertop. 

And then there was me; I was between Omi's legs, kissing him. 

It'd been a nice kiss. The kid had a great set of lips; strong and soft, if not a bit thin. And if I was ever allowed back into the Koneko, I was *definitely* going to ask him where he'd learned to use his tongue like that. 

A very nice kiss... 

The plastic cigarette lighter, barely a week old, made a satisfying crack/crunch against the wall across the street. I nodded, quite pleased with the distance on that throw, and I shuffled down the sidewalk. 

Convenience stores had lighters, didn't they? They're 'convenience' stores. Nothing could be more convenient for me than a cigarette lighter. 

He really did need it-- Omi needed a kiss. If I hadn't given it to him, then it would have been someone else, and I didn't like the thought of that. 

_He *needed* it,_ I insisted. _And I wanted it, so it worked out pretty well. _

Until *Ken* came home. Yes, this was all Ken's fault. Even if Aya had been the one to kick me out (fortunately his boot hit the door instead of my ass)... Alright; it was Ken and Aya's fault, collectively. 

_Can't really blame Omi, though, _ I mused. _He gets marks for being irresistible, but not necessarily bad marks... _ I grinned, and shifted the cigarette in my mouth so it didn't interfere with my evil smirk. 

_At least it got that look off his face. The kid thinks too much. _ I nodded. 

"Too much thinking, not enough *action*." 

Flickering neon lights signaled my destination's arrival. This late, there was one bored looking clerk and-- I grinned broadly-- an entire display of cheap plastic cigarette lighters. 

I entered still grinning, and descended upon the display. Red, blue, yellow, green, and white, too. Ah, the choices... I chose a blue one, then, just in case, picked up a white one. _Weiss, _ of course. 

I was no stranger to irony. 

This whole night was ironic. Stupid, actually, but pretty ironic too. I'd wanted to get out. Not drunk, just out. _Ken, and Aya, and Omi, took care of that. I'm out on my ass for the duration... _

The clerk put my purchases into a bag (the point of this... was lost on me), and I was turned out into the night. It embraced me, because nighttime is romantic light that. It likes to hug. 

It liked to kiss, too. 

Especially assassins. 

I flicked my thumb over the gears of the lighter. It lit. I inhaled, and started walking again. The neon sign behind me flickered and killed my shadow for a moment. I paused, and pulled the cigarette from my lips. 

In a mockery of my earlier lip-lock with Omi, I kissed the night.   
  



	2. Burn

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: **Burn**  
(Aya)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: light rating of PG-14, light/implied shounen ai (AyaxKen, YoujixOmi), some humor, marginal cursing, probably OOC...

**Notes**: second installment of 'Scenes'... I probably should have mentioned that this is set... um... I haven't seen the whole series yet, so wherever or if it might fit. xD;  
(Aya/Ran's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...)

The lines of poetry are from 'Song: Love Armed', a poem by Aphra Behn. 

**Revised**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
_'Love in fantastic triumph state, Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowed, For whom fresh pains he did create, And strange tyrannic power he showed...'_

Bleeding hearts. 

_It's more powerful on paper, I think. _

I've gotten used to the bleeding. Blood is all the same color, after all. It always rushes out with the same panicked force. Quite boring, if you don't think about it too much. 

It's beautiful, on paper. _Blood. A romantic word if I've ever heard one. _

"Good book?" 

I ignored Youji. He was best left ignored, because if you noticed him he'd get ideas in his head; ideas like you wanted to talk. I did not want to talk to Youji. I didn't want to talk to anyone. 

So Youji was ignored, and I left him with Omi in the kitchen. My book was very good, and my tea was hot, just as I liked it. 

The rattling sound of a door opening alerted the entire building to Ken's return. As did a muffled curse, and thud when his shoe connected with the wall. 

_Why he has to throw them when he takes them off is beyond me._ I frowned with the indignity of it. 

I didn't frown because I was thinking about how often he threw his shoes-- although it was disturbing how I knew the exact number of times he'd done it this week (twelve). I deepened my frown, and continued down the hall. _All that's left is to sit in room, stay in room, drink tea, and read book. _

Sometimes thinking like a Neanderthal had its benefits; less complicated thoughts led to less stress on the mind. 

No wonder Youji is partial to it. 

I smiled grimly. My humor was a fleeting thing. I enjoyed it about as rarely as anyone else did. 

_Must have something to do with being a killer. They're masters of tragedy, not comedy. _

I paused in the hall to test my drink: it was hot, and bitter. I'd forgotten cream. Now that was a tragedy. 

I wanted my book and my tea in my room, and I wanted my cream to magically levitate from the kitchen into my tea. This would never happen. I sighed resignedly. 

_At least this will cool down by the time I get upstairs... _ I turned swiftly. 

The sensation of having your skin drenched in very hot tea is not a pleasant one. 

Neither is said hot tea, as it soaks into your sweater. 

And it didn't help that Ken was on top of me, staring into my eyes with something akin to horror. 

_I'm being boiled alive-- by tea. _

That would be a terrible way to die. No blood at all. Just burns.

"Aya," Ken whispered. He was out of breath, and as shocked as I was. He pushed himself off of me, but not away. His jaw was swinging. 

He looked amusing. 

Killers may not comedians, but they seem to have an understanding with humor. Just a fleeting relationship. 

"Close your mouth," I growled. Ken's jaw snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. He remained poised above me, hands braced to my sides and legs straddling my hips. 

_This is a compromising position. And I am now dying a slow, agonizing, burning death. From tea. _

My eyes narrowed. 

Oh yes, it hurt. 

Ken rocketed off of me, as if my sneer and rigid body were an indication to my imminent explosion. He scrambled up and placed a nervous hand to his head, ruffling his hair and looking mortified. 

"I'm sorry! I was-- Youji, and Omi-- watching, didn't see..." His brain was malfunctioning, apparently. 

I stood gingerly, feeling the skin on my hand and chest tingle in warning. I reluctantly released my mug to the floor (the carpet was remarkably free of tea; my sweater had absorbed it all). My book was at the other end of the hall, thankfully untouched. I liked that book. 

I wrenched my sweater over my head, grimacing at the browned state of my undershirt, and the red portions of my skin. 

"I'm really sorry--" Ken tried again. He craned his neck around to look back at the kitchen. "Youji was with Omi and--" He turned his face back to me, and didn't finish. 

_Why is he blushing? _

And Ken's face was very red. He was pointing weakly to the kitchen, which was where I needed to head anyway. I needed some cold water, and a tub to soak my shirts in. 

"Youji-- and Omi--" 

_What the hell turned his brain into mush?!_ I was pissed, and royally so. If Youji and Omi were the cause of this, and they were still in the kitchen, then I was wasting time. There were people to yell at. And burns to tend. 

I skirted Ken, and stormed into the kitchen. Youji was in front of the sink, in my way. 

_Why-- ?_

Omi was *in* the sink. 

_........_

Youji had his hands all over Omi; pinning him to the counter top, running them along the boy's arms and thighs-- 

And there was the pint of cream, tipped to the floor and emptying languidly into puddle on the floor. 

Neither of them felt my burning glare on Youji's back. They didn't feel Ken's boggling stare. 

But I was going to make sure one of them, preferably Youji, felt my foot in his ass as he sailed out the door. 

My skin burned.   
  



	3. Food for Your Soul

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: **Food for Your Soul**  
(Ken)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: light rating of PG-14, light/implied shounen ai (AyaxKen, YoujixOmi), some humor, marginal cursing, probably OOC...

**Notes**: third installment of 'Scenes'. And I couldn't think of a plot. So, we're pretty cliche here. Sorry @_@.  
(Ken's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...) 

**Updated**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
Youji's been gone for an hour now. And the guilt's really setting in... 

I didn't *mean* to fall on Aya-- if I'd known he was in the hallway I would have avoided tripping over him. Instead I would have fallen flat on my face, so that he could walk over me, then he wouldn't have been mad enough to throw Youji out. 

_ I fell on Aya. _

It's not guilt anymore. No, it's evolved into something more like utter horror. I mean, come on, I *fell* on *Aya*... 

I whimpered pitifully, and buried my head in my arms. After Aya had finished washing and tending to his burns (his chest was red, and a few blisters had risen on his hand... _okay, the guilt's back_), I slithered into the kitchen, found something to eat (I was starving!), and sat down. 

"I fell on Aya," I moaned. 

The only person near enough to hear me was Omi. He was still sitting on the countertop, although no longer wedged between the faucet and Youji. I blushed, and pinched my nose in case I had sudden case of 'nosebleed'. 

_Youji kissed Omi! I mean, really kissed him! If I had done that to Aya-- _

I hadn't. I fell on him instead. I would never kiss Aya, either, because if Aya was smart (and Aya was smart), he'd stay the hell away from me if he, or I, had a hot beverage, or anything else in my hand. 

_I'm lethal in more ways than one. _ I scrunched up my face, and straightened slowly. Omi was really quiet. 

"Cat got your tongue?" I blinked at how funny that was, then I laughed. "Or should I ask if *Youji* has your tongue!" 

Omi seemed to break from his trance at my delighted laughter. He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them to stare at me as if I hadn't been sitting here for the last hour, writhing in misery and eating an odd sandwich. _I thought it was cheese...._

_Wow... _ I blinked back at Omi, and stared. 

He'd been looking a little worse for wear this past week. Dark circles under his eyes, a little paler, more quiet. He didn't even talk to Youji, and he always talked to Youji. 

It was scary, seeing the guy sit at breakfast staring miserably into his oatmeal. I mean, I don't like oatmeal, but it can't be awful enough to make someone look so *haunted*. 

I talked to him earlier today. I'd written it down on my 'to do' list, right under 'make lunch', but Omi was in the kitchen already so I figured I could make lunch *and* 'talk to Omi'. And Youji said I had no organizational skills! 

_He should see my sock drawer now-- I've got *liners*!_   
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
Mid morning, Omi had been sitting on the countertop on the edge of the sink, swinging his legs absently and just staring into space. He was thinking, obviously. All week, apparently. 

_He shouldn't think so much,_ I'd thought solemnly. _I mean, you don't have to think about everything... _

... if you do, you usually come up with stuff you don't want to think about... 

That's what was wrong with Omi. 

"Can I help?" I slapped my forehead, and Omi gave me a tired smile. "I mean what's wrong? And, can I help?" I smiled, proud at how good of a friend I was being. I was even stalling getting food, so I could talk to Omi. 

Omi studied me for a second, as if sizing me up for whatever he was about to tell me. Seeing if I could handle it. I felt like saying 'I can handle a lot, kid. I'm an assassin!'. 

But then again, so was he. Little Omi was a well trained assassin. 

Now you see, that's why you can't think about everything, or even most of anything. 

You think about stuff that's best left buried, for the time being. 

Omi decided I was acceptable (he probably realized I'd never leave him alone if he didn't tell me). The little guy sighed. 

"You love Aya, don't you?" 

By then, I had found an apple rolling around on the table. A large chunk of it lodged in my throat as Omi spoke, and I bolted out of the chair, clutching my throat. 

_He just asked me-- _ *choke* _if I love Aya??_ *choke gag* 

"Ken!!" I heard Omi leap from the counter, and he started pounding on my back. Fortunately, I managed to cough once and the apple erupted from my throat to fly across the kitchen and splat against a cabinet. 

I fell back into my chair, wheezing, with Omi hovering over me. 

"You almost killed me!" I accused, coughing raggedly. I squinted up at Omi through teary eyes. 

"Killed--? Ken! You choked on an apple! It's your own fault you don't *chew* your food!" 

"I chew!" I objected. Omi wasn't convinced. "You're the one asking me if--" I coughed again, and felt my cheeks grow warm. _I chew my food... _

Omi retreated to his perch on the sink. Once I had composed myself, I stood and tried to jump up beside him. I almost slid off, but he helped pull me up. He was smiling, and shaking his head at my antics. 

_Omi asked me if I love Aya. So... it must be linked to whatever is bothering him. So... aw, I have to answer?? _

I cleared my throat, and made an attempt. 

"Yes." That was all Omi was going to get. He seemed confused for a second, then he nodded, and looked down at his dangling feet. 

"Do you think you deserve him?" 

I stared, speechless and (momentarily!!) dumb. Omi wasn't talking about me. The question may've been addressed to me, but he was talking about something completely different. Himself, probably. 

"I... I don't think love has anything to do with 'deserving'. I mean..." I didn't know what I meant. "No, I don't think I deserve Aya. I l.....ove Aya," I paused to chew on my tongue; punishment for stumbling over so small a word. "But I don't deserve him." 

That's one thing I didn't think about too much. Dwelling on it would probably send me on a downward spiral, like Omi... 

Omi looked at me then, with the most miserable expression. Like he was lost or something, or terribly confused and hurting. 

"I love Youji," he said softly. He wasn't going to cry, but I could see this misery-fest wasn't going anywhere, either. "And I *know* I don't deserve him. I'm just a kid, sometimes. And a killer the rest. Who could love that?" 

It was intended as a rhetorical question, but he needed an answer. But if I couldn't answer my own questions in 'that' area, what good would I do Omi? 

So I sat next to him on the kitchen counter, swinging my feet and hearing the heels of my soccer cleats rap softly on the cabinets. 

My cleats. Soccer practice, eleven o'clock. The wall clock above the kitchen door told me it was five minutes till. 

"We'll talk later??!" I wailed from the hall. Omi didn't answer.   
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
_Wow,_ I repeated. He looked... rejuvenated. Like Youji's kiss was the fountain of youth. A sly grin spread across my face. 

Maybe for Omi, it was. 

Omi touched his lips, and blinked slowly again. His face was flushed with color, and the gears in his head seemed to be turning a little slower, but just as intently. His third long blink was followed by a short shake of his head, and he hopped down to the floor. 

"Where's Youji??" He demanded. I shrugged helplessly. 

"Aya kicked him out after I fell on him." Omi gave me a wild, weird look, and I shrugged again. 

"You fell on Youji?" 

"No!" I snarled. _Wasn't he listening to me?! _.... Probably not. "I fell on Aya, and spilled his *hot* tea all over him and when he came into the kitchen to clean off, Youji--" it was all coming back, in vivid splashes of memory. "... well, Youji was-- he was really kissing you but Aya thought he was attacking you--" 

"Attacking?" Omi sounded like he hadn't believed a word I'd said. It was pretty weird... "Why would Aya think Youji was attacking me?" 

"I *wasn't* thinking," Aya announced from the doorway. 

I whirled in my seat, and decided I need to melt into a puddle as soon as possible, even as my enthusiastic, mortified litany began again. _I fell on Aya! _. Aya entered the kitchen calmly, and continued speaking. 

"I was in pain," he offered begrudgingly. "My judgment... was off." 

"I have to talk to him!" Omi shouted. He fled from the kitchen, and I tried to follow, but a hand on my arm made me pause. I looked up, and froze. 

Aya was frowning at me, but mostly at the half eaten sandwich on the table. 

"That's mine." 

_It must be cheese. _ Food for your soul, then, because Aya was going to *kill* me for eating it. 

  
  
-------------------------------------------  
Note: I read in another fic that Aya liked cheese. LoL, I thought it sounded like a cute idea. Heeh. Cheese. =^_^=;;;   
-------------------------------------------  
  



	4. Lock and Kitty

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: **Lock and Kitty**  
(Youji)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: PG-14 with shounen ai (YoujixOmi, later AyaxKen), some humor, marginal cursing, probably OOC, and this is pretty plotless. Lots of sap. Mushy.

**Notes**: fourth installment of 'Scenes'. My brain hurts. I have a had habit of starting things, and never finishing them... =^^=

I remember now. ^^ I bet you're wondering where Omi's POV is, eh, eh? Since this thing seems to revolve around him. =^_^= Only time will tell, yes...  
(Youji's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...) 

**Updated**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
Omi was soft. 

Well he was! Soft skin, really soft hair, and he had on a fuzzy sweater, angora I think. Reminded me of a baby kitten. 

_Uhg, such sappy thoughts. All this walking must be killing brain cells. _ Walking down the sidewalk, weaving onto the street when that got boring... The few pedestrians that were out so late thought I was drunk. 

I wasn't drunk, although a bottle of Bourbon didn't sound all that bad... 

_No. Better stay sober till I know whether or I'm allowed to go home. _

Damn Ken. 

But, it was no use cursing the damned. I smiled in a fiendish way as I imagined the horrors that must have befallen Ken, once Aya was past the scalding pain stage. 

_One broken arm,_ I mused. _Fractured kneecap, and a bloody nose. Maybe a few bald spots, too, because Aya seems like a hair puller._

Nothing better to jump-start a lonely night than wishing a little agony on your teammate. 

Actually, there was something better. Kissing Omi was a damn good start, to an otherwise boring night. Damn good. 

I had half a pack of cigarettes left. 

I've never smoked a half pack in less than a *week*, much less two hours. 

"... making Ken buy me a new pack when I get home," I grumbled peevishly. 

Maybe I was being a little harsh on dearest Kenken. He can't help what he is. 

"A total klutz, with two left feet, and the grace of a fish out of water. Flop, flop." 

"Excuse me?" 

My luck, some old woman carrying a bag of groceries had come up behind me at the crosswalk. 

"My friend," I explained lazily, offering her a flirty smile even as she blessed me with a suspicious, hostile glare. "I was kissing my other friend, and he-- my friend-- fell on my other other friend, and spilled some really hot tea, so my other other friend got real pissed and kicked me out-- have a nice night!" 

I had to yell the last part because for some reason the old lady didn't want to wait for the pedestrian sign to turn green. She ran fast, for an old woman. 

_She must be pushing seventy, _ I thought in amazement. _Look at her go..._ I shrugged, and sighed dramatically. _I've kissed one guy, and had a woman *run* away from me. A new record, but that's okay because women will never get enough of me, I'm too much of a charmer. As for Omi... _

How do you charm someone, when they've already charmed you? 

_God, that's lame. _

"Laaaame." I drew the groan out into a heartfelt sigh. I was tired. It was late. 

_Two hours should be good enough..._ Time for Aya to cool down, and to clean up the bloody mess that was Ken. 

_And Omi's door has a lock, right?_ I pondered this as I crossed the empty street, flicking the filter of my cigarette into the darkness. _I really, really don't want any more intrusions. As erotic as the kitchen counter was, Ken is just too much of a hazard. _ I stepped up on the curb, and pivoted to head home. 

"Youji!" 

There's nothing like a short cry of excitement, a breathless voice calling out your name in the dark. 

"Youji." 

He was still wearing that soft sweater, and in the streetlight it looked even fuzzier. Just like a little kitty. 

"PETA's going to kick my ass," I began[1]. Omi gave me a curious, if not cautious look. He leaned forward and sniffed lightly; checking for booze. 

"Why is that?" He asked softly. Omi didn't look a bit anxious as I grinned evilly at him. 

"Because," I petted his fuzzy shoulder as if I were soothing a true _koneko_[2]. My other hand filtered its way though Omi's silky hair to cup the back of his head. 

  
  


  
-------------------------------------------  
[1] PETA; People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals: I'm not a member, and I don't know anything about the group. I don't mean any offense, and I just hope everyone can see the humor x_X; I'm really bad with humor... 

[2]_koneko_; kitty, part of the name of the WK floral shop 'Koneko no Sumu Ie' I believe it's called? Sorry, a stupid pun. ::shrug::   
-------------------------------------------  
  



	5. What's Yours Is Mine

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: **What's Mine is Yours (a.k.a. The Cheese Sandwich) **  
(Aya)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: Still PG-14 with shounen ai (AyaxKen) specifically, some humor, marginal cursing, probably OOC, and this is pretty plotless. Loads of sap! Yeah.

**Notes**: fifth installment of 'Scenes'. I'm really bad at portraying Aya. o___O; Eh, who am I to delve into the minds of bishounen?

(Aya's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...)

**Added**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
I've never seen someone so resigned to his fate. 

_It's just a sandwich, _ I thought. _I'm not going to kill him over it. Now, if he touched my katana... _

Ken's smile was desperately wide and placating. His hand twitched in my grasp. 

"You can have the rest." He reduced his smile to a simple sixty watt grin, and picked up my sandwich from the kitchen table in offering. It was funny that I still thought of it as my sandwich, considering Ken had mauled it. I frowned, and Ken's wrist twisted in my hand. I didn't let go. 

I wasn't quite sure why I was still holding onto him... 

It was a warm night, but Ken's skin was cool and soft, especially the underside of his wrist. My eyes lowered for a moment to study the veins. 

The human body was amazing. It had function: biology at its finest. And it had form: beauty. Pale blue and vibrant veins, pulsing tirelessly beneath his skin. 

Artful, the human body. Desirable. 

Partially devoured cheese and crumbling bread erupted suddenly into my line of sight. 

_*Not* desirable, _ I amended. Ken's eyes blinked innocently at me beyond the sandwich, which he unwaveringly held to my face. 

_'From thy bright eyes he took his fire, Which round about in sport he hurled; But 'twas from mine he took desire, Enough to undo the amorous world.'_ [1] 

Yes, the human body was a work of art. Wonderfully diverse. Lively hazel eyes, brown hair, golden skin, and a sheepish grin... 

He was still holding that damn sandwich out for me, and I would have to let go of him to take it. 

I frowned, quite displeased with that course of action. While the sandwich looked less than appealing, Ken, as I've noted in my quiet, obtuse way, was... 

Desirable. 

His skin was soft. 

And it was intriguing that I was holding him so delicately, and he wasn't pulling away. 

Perhaps he didn't want to... 

I decided I liked that thought. 

"I've pretty much ruined your day, huh?" Ken began nervously. I could see the gears in his head turning as he wondered why I was holding his hand, staring off into space and giving the sandwich odd looks. "I spilled tea all over you, and now I've eaten half of your sandwich." He sighed dramatically. 

Facial expressions are another wonder, as presented by the human body. Ken was quite good at them. I had a few myself: Glare, Youji Glare, and Everyone Thing Else Glare. 

I was neutral at the moment, however. Ken cycled through several of his facial expressions, and wiggled the fingers of his captive limb. My half-sandwich still hovered in the air, waiting. 

_I did come in here to get it,_ I reminded myself calmly. 

"Hey, my germs aren't as painful as the rest of me!" Ken chuckled. He smiled again. 

_ That settles it. _

I leaned forward slightly, and narrowed my eyes a little to gauge Ken's reaction. He held the sandwich steady as I bit into it, and pulled back to chew. I kept my hand around his wrist, and he didn't move. 

_Good._

I took another bite, and my free hand rose to take hold of Ken's hand and the sandwich. 

_Tea would be good... _

But I wasn't about to make that mistake again. 

Ken and tea just don't mix well. 

But he can halve my sandwiches anytime. I tugged faintly on his arms, and brought Ken one step closer. 

"What's mine is yours," I murmured absently. His eyes grew wide, and he blushed. 

"Except for your katana?" He inquired with another smile. His face was about as near as the sandwich. 

I took another bite, and let my teeth graze Ken's finger. I nodded dismissively while I chewed. 

"Except for that." I inclined my head again, and tasted Ken's lips. 

  
  


  
-------------------------------------------  
[1] _'From thy bright eyes he took his fire, Which round about in sport he hurled; But 'twas from mine he took desire, Enough to undo the amorous world.'_; from the poem "Song: Love Armed" by Aphra Behn. Not real appropriate for the fic, but it sounds nice... =^_^=;;   
-------------------------------------------  
  



	6. The Blame

  


  
-------------------------------------------  
Scene: ** The Blame **  
(Omi)   
-------------------------------------------  
**Warnings**: Still PG-14 with yaoi (Aya+Ken, Omi+Youji) specifically, humor, marginal cursing, OOC, hints of mature activities, wayyyy out of timeline, and without plot. And SAP.

**Notes**: sixth, concluding installment of 'Scenes'. After a huge, ridiculous delay, the conclusion of 'Scenes'. I don't think this concludes much. Ah well. Enjoy, and thankya for reading!

(Omi's POV; _italics_ = thoughts...)

**Added**: 10/31/02   
-------------------------------------------  


  
Poor Ken. I think. He'd managed to scald Aya and sweep him off his feet in the same night. I think Aya deserves sympathy as well, because that tea *must* have hurt. Mostly, I congratulate them. No one needs love more than we do... even if we don't deserve it, we _need_ it. 

I love Youji. His explanation for the night deftly avoided my involvement. He claimed that I was too much of a temptation, for him. And that the consequences were worth it. And would I please take off my sweater? I obliged, and shivered at the feel of his skin against mine. 

I blame myself for tonight. I was somehow the cause of Ken's trauma, Aya's wounds, Youji's banishment... and two empty bedrooms. My guilt, however, has been overridden by satisfaction. I'm surprisingly pleased with myself, considering just what I am. A killer, a child. 

But I'll think about that another day. Then Youji will kiss me, banish reality, burn away my doubts, and feed... many things. 

Youji's hands were distracting me, pulling me closer in the dark. 

I sighed. _ It's amazing, how much can happen in one night. _

  
  


-------------------------------------------  
The end. Aren't I disappointing? LoL. I hope this has some closure... somewhere. In my long absence from fanfiction-dom, I've tried to work on my conclusions.... LOL. What 'progress!' XD

**Whatever Else**: Disclaimers apply, I don't own anything, I love my muse even if I neglect him. He did encourage me to write something again. ^__^ Fanks, and fanks to readers! ::beams::   
-------------------------------------------  



End file.
